Alex's first love took a knife wound for him, and he left me, his pregnant wife, to stay by her side day and night.

At first, I didn't mind. He told me he was just grateful.

But later, after Emily caused me to miscarry, I wanted an explanation. He just said, "Let it go. Is it really necessary to blame Emily like that?"

Alex said he had to work late, and I worried about his stomach bothering him. So, I made blue berry pancake and brought it to the hospital for him.

I found him laughing with Emily at the door of a hospital room. They were so caught up in their conversation.

I leaned against the doorframe, quietly watching his back. A little boy sat on his lap; the scene was painfully harmonious.

When Emily saw me, a flash of caution appeared in her eyes. She pretended not to know me and continued talking to Alex.

I looked down at the pancake in my hands, wondering if I should interrupt this warm scene.

Suddenly, Alex called out, "Grace, why are you here?"

He quickly stood and took the pancake from my hands. "You shouldn't be moving around so much, especially not in your first trimester."

I looked past Alex towards Emily on the hospital bed. Her eyes glistened with tears as she spoke, "You two are so happy, about to become a family of three... unlike me..."

Before she could finish, tears streamed down her face.

Alex sighed, placed the pancake back in my hands, and turned back towards her.

I looked at him pleadingly. "I've been feeling so nauseous these days. I worked hard to make this pancake."

He stroked my head, smiling gently. "Then I insist on trying my wife's cooking today."

But I still couldn't convince Alex to come home.

I pinched my arm, pretending it was nothing, "You said you had a big surgery tonight. What are you doing here?"

"The surgery got canceled due to a special case," he said, smacking his forehead. "I forgot to tell you, Emily and her son don't have anyone to take care of them. I'll stay here tonight."

I stood frozen. What about me? I'm carrying your child.

"Sweetheart, it's less than three months. You can manage, right?" he tugged lightly at my sleeve.

Was he really using another woman to guilt me?

In front of others, Alex was always so stoic, no one would believe he was capable of something like this.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Emily interjected with hopeful eyes, "Grace, you won't mind, right?"

Maybe because I was always too accommodating, but this time, I didn't want to swallow my pride.

I said firmly, "No, you have to come home with me tonight."

Alex got impatient, standing up abruptly to scold me, "Grace, how can you be so unreasonable? If Emily hadn't taken that knife for me, I'd be the one lying in that bed!"

"And what about me? I rushed here the moment I heard. You've been taking care of her for days. I'm not stopping you, but can't you spend some time with me? I've been so nauseous."

Emily sobbed, "Alex, you should go. Ethan is here. He can take care of me."

"Stop saying that, Ethan is too young to take care of anyone!" Alex shouted, emotionally strained.

He pointed at me, clutching his chest dramatically, "Grace, I thought you were grateful to Emily too. But you're just being selfish."

"Go home and think about this. Take the pancake with you."

A little boy beside him looked up innocently and said, "Daddy, I'm hungry."

Alex glanced at the pancake in my hands. I looked at him incredulously, gripping the container tighter.

"Grace, you're not going to hold a grudge against a child, are you?"

Meeting his gaze, I placed the pancake on the table, forcing a smile. "Of course not."

Alex's expression softened. He picked up Ethan. "Auntie Grace made this pancake for you. See how it tastes."

I quietly left the room. As I closed the door, I saw Emily's triumphant smile.

I realized then our peaceful life was about to get complicated.

Purposely closing the door with a bang, I hoped he might come after me.

But he didn't. Maybe he was lost in the happiness of another little boy calling him "Daddy."

Standing in the dark night, I held my stomach, my thoughts filled with the scene from that day.

Two weeks earlier, I'd received a call from one of Alex's colleagues.

"Grace, come quickly. Dr. Carter just got into an argument with a patient. He's really upset."

As I hurried to the hospital by cab, suppressing the urge to be sick multiple times along the way, everything started to unravel when I arrived. I saw a middle-aged man yelling profanities at Alex. Alex, who'd been so privileged his whole life, had never faced such disrespect. His face reddened with anger, and I saw he was about to throw a nearby chair.

I pushed through the crowd, shouting, "Alex, calm down!"

But he didn't hear me. Just as he picked up the chair, the man pulled out a knife. Desperate, I pushed past everyone, trying to reach him, only to be shoved to the ground by the throng. All I could think of was Alex's safety.

I was too late.

Emily stepped in front of Alex, and the knife slashed across her arm.

"What are you doing?" Alex shouted, wrapping his arms around her.

I took a deep breath, relieved that Alex was unharmed.

Someone finally noticed me on the ground, calling out to Alex. He rushed over, helping me up.

"When did you get here?" he asked, scanning me frantically. "Are you okay? Is the baby okay?"

I couldn't hold back the tears anymore and clung to him, sobbing. As people began to disperse, I still wouldn't let go.

Alex gently reassured me, "It's okay, it's okay."

From behind, Emily called out, "Alex, my arm…"

I awkwardly wiped my tears, apologizing, "I didn't get the chance to thank you earlier."

Emily glanced at Alex, a smile playing on her lips, "With me and Alex, there's no need for thanks."

Fortunately, someone pulled the man away, and Emily's injuries were minor. Yet, Alex continued to care for her, explaining they'd known each other since childhood, and since her husband had passed away, he felt responsible.

Before our baby, Alex promised to always be there for me, never letting me suffer. Now? I could barely catch a glimpse of him.

As I left the hospital, Alex called, but I hesitated before rejecting it.

He called again and again. Finally, when I didn't answer, he sent a text: "I've called a cab for you. Be careful on your way home."

The wind brushed past my face as a taxi pulled up, but I waved it away and continued down the dark street.

Not long after, a black Maybach screeched to a halt beside me. Alex slammed the door in frustration and grabbed my arm. "Get in. I'll take you home."

Pulling away, I stubbornly said, "I don't need you."

Seeing my resolute stance, Alex chuckled and scooped me up, ignoring my kicks. He placed me in the passenger seat and buckled me in.

As tears streamed down my face, he gently wiped them away, kissing the tears as they fell. I bit his lip, venting my frustration, and he didn't push me away. Instead, he let me unleash my emotions.

But just as he was about to respond in kind, his phone rang with Emily's name on the screen. My heart sank.

He saw it too, paused, and gently pulled away. "I'll get you home," he said, voice calm.

I held his hand, shaking my head, "You've been away from me for days. First, it was work, but what about now? If you feel guilty, we can hire a nurse for her."

Alex's eyes turned somber. After a long pause, he removed my hand, saying, "I talked to her about it. Emily doesn't want anyone else."

He embraced me, "Let's just wait a little longer. She's set to be discharged in a few days."

As Emily's calls persisted, Alex silenced the phone, his irritation apparent. I pretended not to notice as I watched the world pass by outside the window.

He left me at home and rushed back to the hospital. Left alone, I couldn't hold back any longer and ran to the bathroom, sick with worry.

In our early days, Alex would linger in his car outside my building after dropping me off, waiting for me to see him from my window before sleeping. He used to assure me of his unwavering love, defying even his parents' disapproval for the sake of our relationship.

Now, he told me to go home alone, abandoning his pregnant wife to be with another woman. I doubted whether I was overreacting or if his love had indeed cooled.

My heart felt hollow, a storm raging within as I looked out into the night, only to see darkness.

The next morning, Alex roused me from the couch, but I kept my eyes shut.

A woman's playful voice purred through the phone, "Alex, it's because you just left without a word yesterday."

"Are you blaming me now?" Alex replied, silence stretching until I began to doubt what I heard.

Finally, he spoke again, "Yesterday, I really was in the wrong." Then he kissed my eyelids gently.

He always said my eyes were his favorite, capable of captivating him completely. Yet now, he was doing things that seemed loving while his words were filled with ambiguity. I couldn't tell who his apology was meant for.